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Apr 5 2014, 11:11 PM
This is the first story in a potential series I'm writing.
A Possible Origin
Owen was all alone in the waiting room, reading an old magazine from late 1990's about a tornado in Texas. For some unexplainable reason he had always found disasters, both natural and man-made, to be quite interesting. He would always dedicate some time out of his day to research them, whether it be through a newspaper, a news channel, or a computer screen. This led to some of his more immature co-workers nicknaming him "The Human Richter Scale."
He didn't mind it though, as he considered it to be nothing more than innocent teasing.
"Mr. Kennedy," The receptionist said from behind the front desk. "Doctor Ferris will see you now."
Owen was not expecting good news and the doctor asking him personal questions, as if he were purposefully delaying the inevitable, only confirmed his suspicions. Malignancy is just about the last thing anyone wants to hear during a meeting with a doctor, especially when it concerns brain tumors. Doctor Ferris went on to inform him that the growth of cells had spread far too quickly throughout the spine, meaning that no amount of surgery could have saved his life.
Owen L. Kennedy had anywhere from three months to one year left in his life.
Kennedy refused to let his disease prevent him from enjoying what little time he had on this Earth and went on with everyday life. Even as his condition worsened, he assured his relatives that he was perfectly fine. Out of all the possible ways to exit this world, being put on life support was the fate Owen feared the most. If he was going to die, he wanted to do it with dignity. So he pretended nothing had changed as his illness slowly consumed him.
On one night in particular, he found it especially difficult to walk and felt unbearable pain with every step. He sat down in his living room shortly after eating his supper and tried his best to stay awake as he watched the news. Just as he was about to drift to sleep, he caught a glimpse of someone walking past his chair and standing right in front of his television.
Its outward appearance was that of a human, but its very presence left an impression of something quite different. Its hair was unruly and long, its smile was wide and almost unnatural, and its hand was bright red from what appeared to be burns.
"Don't be alarmed Owen," The entity said in a raspy voice. "I am not here to harm you. Hurting elderly men is not my style. Oh and don't bother getting up. Even without my interference, you would probably fall down."
For some peculiar reason, Owen could tell that no matter how sinister this creature could be, he would not stoop to lying. "Then what do you want mister...?"
"Call me Jack, that's what everyone else calls me. I have come to make a deal with you Mr. Kennedy. Even with a heart as black as mine, I can take pity on you."
"A deal?" Owen asked with astonishment. "What could you possibly offer me?"
"Power, love, closure; anything you want so long as you shake my hand."
"Bah, what could I possibly do with any of those things?"
"Well if those don't suit your desires how about immortality...?"
The creature had finally peeked Owen's interest. "Yo- You're not real. Nothing more than a delusion, caused by my weakened state and a regret for a wasted lifetime."
"If I'm a mere hallucination, then what do you have to lose in accepting my offer?"
Owen considered the idea for a few seconds, before he finally shook the creature's red right hand.
The reflection on the other side of the mirror was unrecognizable to the man without a name. For a single instant he could have sworn he remembered having the same eyes of a no longer existent mother. This idea exited his mind shortly afterwards and never reentered throughout rest of his existence. As he put on his grey business suit and fedora, the man without a name uttered three simple words.
"I am Anonymous."